


Sextet

by Willa Shakespeare (AnonEhouse)



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 17:14:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/Willa%20Shakespeare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for an AU/AR fication. (Alternate Reality is even further from canon than AUs).</p><p>The prompt I was given included these 6 characters and a request for any two, any permutation. I paired them all up so no one got left out.</p><p>In this 'verse, Avon and Vila left the Liberator for safety. And got safety, and loving partners. And bored. Very, very bored. So their partners decided to do something about that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sextet

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

Farren looked up at Avon and frowned. Avon felt eyes on the back of his neck, put down the component he was testing and said, "What is it?"

"Do you remember when we met?" Farren waved a sheaf of papers, business documents that required Avon's signature. 

Cautiously, Avon replied, "Considering the events surrounding that day, I'd call it unforgettable."

Farren slapped the papers down on Avon's workbench. "We had a contract!"

Avon frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"You offered me your services." Farren moved closer to Avon. "It's been a week, and I haven't been able to pry you away from this project!"

Avon laughed and reached out to Farren. "All you had to do was ask." He put one hand behind Farren's head and drew him into a hungry kiss, breaking it off abruptly to say, "Tonight."

Farren picked up the scattered papers, looking irritable. "Perhaps I'll be too busy."

Avon watched Farren leave, shook his head, and returned to his interesting technical puzzle.

***

"He's always got his mind on some project or other," Farren complained over the vid-link. 

On the other side of the planet, Renor looked ruefully back at the pristine sheets of the bed he shared with Vila. "Mine's no better. When I'm off-shift from the hospital he's generally wearing a black jumper and shinnying down drainpipes somewhere else. I just know he's going to get caught someday. And for what?"

Farren sighed. "It all seemed more exciting when they were rebels, didn't it?"

Renor nodded. "Yes." Gloomily, he pushed a glass of something green back and forth on the table in front of him. "Mind you, I'm not complaining. When I caught Kayn betraying them to the Federation, it just disgusted me so much, I couldn't bear to stay on the station."

"Just as well you called me, or we'd have both been on it and gone up with it." Farren fell silent, remembering the friends and co-workers he hadn't been able to save; hadn't thought he needed to save. He'd never dreamed the Federation would fire at them. He'd simply thought of taking ... well, since he was the station administrator, it wouldn't have been unauthorized... leave. Avon's eyes had promised so much. And he had been good in bed on Liberator. If only they hadn't settled down to a nice, safe, quiet world. "I'd rather be bored and randy than dead."

Renor paused, and then said, "I just got a communiqué from Blake, via his computer, Orac."

"Orac." Farren scowled. Avon had been unspeakable for a week once he heard of Blake's new acquisition, picked up shortly after they'd left Liberator. Farren had accused Avon of regretting not having seduced Blake. Avon had retorted that Farren shouldn't assume he _hadn't_. The words had lingered in the air, sharp and painful. Avon had later apologized very nicely. Farren's cock twitched at the memory. But still... he wondered. Did Avon regret more the loss of a shiny bit of tech, or that of a tall, curly-headed rebel? "So, what did Blake have to say?"

"Well, after Avon turned him down, he wanted to offer a one-shot mission to Vila." 

Farren stiffened. "Avon never mentioned speaking to Blake."

Renor looked embarrassed. "Perhaps he didn't think it was important. After all, he turned Blake down."

***

Blake grunted. "A little higher." His lover's hands dug into the muscle at the base of his neck, and kneaded until Blake sighed and said, "Enough." He rolled over. "Thanks."

"You're too tense. You really ought to have a little more faith in me."

Blake laughed. "Oh, I respect your skills, Carnell, all of them. I'm just not sure whose side you're on."

"Ultimately, my own." Carnell lay down next to Blake and began idly toying with Blake's nipples. "Fortunately for you, and the rebellion, I committed the cardinal sin of psychostrategy and put myself in the equation. I didn't like my future in the Federation. Servalan is quite mad. If she isn't stopped now... well, genocide for political advantage is the least of her charming traits. She gave Travis his orders on Zircaster, and then had the poor devil programmed to forget. She's in the clear. Until we can prove otherwise."

Blake caught Carnell's hand, and moved it down lower on his body. "And we need Avon for that."

"You shall have him." Carnell ran his fingers down to Blake's cock. 

"He said 'no', quite clearly."

"No, he didn't. He said he wouldn't be manipulated by you, ever again." Carnell grinned and made a circle with his fingers. "That was very revealing, actually."

"Was it?" Blake pulled Carnell down for a kiss. 

"You know it was." Carnell pulled back slightly to laugh. "Ah, Blake, you are the finest untrained psychostrategist I've ever met. Why did you let Avon go in the first place, if you needed him so badly?"

Blake smiled. "I don't think I'll tell you." He put his fingers in his mouth and sucked on them. "Now, would you rather talk about Avon, or have me fuck you until you scream?"

***

"Are you going to throw things?" Avon asked. "If so, I'd recommend the dishes rather than the glassware."

Farren put his hands down flat on their dining table, barely missing the half-eaten steak on his plate. "Avon. Why didn't you tell me you had spoken with Blake?"

"Because there was nothing to tell. He outlined the vaguest possible request for assistance, along with equally vague promises." Avon looked up at Farren. "Don't waste the steak."

Farren sighed and sat back down. "You know if it was because of me that you turned him down, you needn't have." He picked up his knife and fork and cut another piece of meat. "I’m bored here."

"You're also safe here."

"There's more to life than being safe." Farren reached across the table to lay his hand over Avon's. "Do you really enjoy tinkering with elaborate electronic toys all day long?"

"As much as you enjoy handling the business of merchandizing them."

Farren winced. "It's that bad?" He began massaging the back of Avon's hand. "One mission...you could wear leather..."

Avon grinned. "I can wear leather here."

"It's not the same without a gun in your hand, and you coming in the door, furious at Blake." Farren stroked Avon's forearm. "Furious at Blake and wanting me."

Avon turned his arm over swiftly and caught Farren's hand. "Are you saying I'm useless without Blake?"

"No, no, of course not! I'm just..." Farren spread his hands out in frustration and took a deep breath before continuing "...afraid that you've committed yourself to a drab, boring existence you hate, just because you made me a promise."

"A man's word is all he has, ultimately."

"Yes, but think about it, Avon! You didn't promise to wrap me up in cotton wool, just not to risk our lives in Blake's futile rebellion. If you went on a mission because you wanted to do it for the excitement of it, that wouldn't be the same thing, would it?"

Avon laughed. "That's even madder than dying for a cause." Avon reached out and took one of Farren's hands. "Besides, the business is just beginning to take off. Now is hardly the time for a daredevil's holiday."

"It would take off faster if we had more financing."

"Hmm...yes, there is that." Avon looked thoughtful throughout the rest of the meal.

***

"OW." Vila winced as Renor laid a slab of raw meat over his blackened eye. "That's disgusting!"

"It's something my granny used to tell us about."

"Your granny must have been a tough old lady." Vila tilted his head back. "My granny used a bag of frozen peas, tucked up in a washcloth."

"Well, we haven't any peas!" Renor felt Vila's head, teasing apart blood-clotted hair to examine his scalp.

"OW!"

"Don't be such a baby." Renor began washing away the blood gingerly. "How did you get in this state?"

"I'd taken out all the alarms." Vila sounded peevish. "How was I to know he had a de-barked attack dog! Big and black and with a mouth full of sharp teeth!" Vila shuddered. "Reminded me of Avon, he did. So there I was with this monster at my throat and a three-story drop behind me!"

"You didn't fall three stories!"

"Nah, but when I got to the pavement, the stupid dog knocked my kit down on top of me! I got hit on the head by a flying necklace- the rock on that thing nearly gave me concussion and then I tripped over a laser probe and fell against the automated zebra crossing. It's probably still jammed on." Vila shut his good eye. "Maybe I need a partner... 's hard to find anyone any good." Wistfully, he said, "Avon might've trained up well... had good hands."

Renor sat next to Vila until he fell asleep, then he got up to make a vid-call.

***

Blake thrust slow and steady, drawing helpless groans of pleasure from Carnell. After a moment Blake paused with the tip of his cock barely inside his lover and said, "Now, what was that you were saying about me and Avon?"

Carnell turned his flushed and sweaty face to one side and grinned. "Monogamy is vastly overrated. Think about having both me and Avon at once."

Blake groaned and slammed into Carnell. "You're good..."

"I know." Carnell let his eyelids shut, knowing exactly how the lashes would lay on his cheek, and how Blake would react.

***

"We're committed to only this one mission," Avon said. 

"Yes, that's right." Blake nodded, sipping coffee and sitting at his ease on an overstuffed sofa in Avon's living room. Carnell stood behind Blake, hands on his shoulders, smiling amiably at everyone. 

Avon frowned at Carnell, but spoke to Blake. "Win, lose or draw, we get paid."

"As agreed," Blake said mildly. "When you leave Liberator, you leave a rich man."

"Oh, stop fussing," Vila muttered from the other end of the sofa as Cally applied a healing pad to his head again. "My head's got nothing wrong with it... except for wanting to get back in with you lot again." Cally grinned and kissed him on the top of his head. Vila brightened a moment, then he looked at Blake suspiciously. "It all sounds too easy."

"Easy for you and Avon, " Carnell said. "Which is why we are willing to pay this exorbitant price." Idly, he touched Blake's hair.

***

Farren took Renor into the kitchen to help with the coffee and pastries. "I think we're making a big mistake," Renor grumbled. "Once we're on Liberator, they'll be paying even less attention to us."

"Maybe." Farren shook his head. "Ah, well, we'll still have each other." He patted Renor on the arse.


End file.
